


Keep Your Eyes On Me

by PiningTsukkiEnthusiast



Series: Tendou Week 2020 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Attempt at Humor, Competitive Dance - Freeform, Critic!Suga, Dancer!Tendou, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Tendou Satori Week 2020, Trans Tendou Satori, injury mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24259342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiningTsukkiEnthusiast/pseuds/PiningTsukkiEnthusiast
Summary: Tendou Week, Day 1:Rivals/Otp|Formal Wear|AU: DanceShiratorizawa’s Tendou Satori once again proves that flexibility and litheness aren’t all it takes to make a good dancer.His technique in today’s performance was sloppy at best, with nearly no limb control. What others call a “personal style” strikes me as laziness and poor muscle strength. Miracle Boy Satori? Sure, if the miracle is that he hasn’t torn a ligament flailing about like that.Or, Tendou is a competitive dancer, and Suga writes a critic column.
Relationships: Sugawara Koushi/Tendou Satori
Series: Tendou Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1751191
Comments: 9
Kudos: 66
Collections: TendouWeek2020





	Keep Your Eyes On Me

**Author's Note:**

> TENDOU WEEK BEGINS! I'm so, so excited to participate, though I do admit I am completely winging every fic as I go. So... bear with me if I don't upload every day. That said, I am going to do my best to! So, let's get into it!
> 
> I'm really excited, because I'm a former dancer, and were it not for an injury, competitive dance would've been my JAM. This was so, so much fun to write. I don't know how much of a plot it follows? But I had a good time and that's really all that matters.

Any good dancer knows better than to let a negative review get them down.

Satori has long since gotten over the idea that criticisms of his performance were an attack on him personally. They’re just doing their job and getting paid. It’s nothing too serious. And, well, those who _did_ attack him personally…

You know what they say. Those who can’t _do_ , critique.

Criticism is loud, but Beethoven is louder. Satori makes a habit of reminding his juniors of this, since they find themselves down and out more often than the older dancers. Poor little Goshiki cried for three hours when he got his first bad review. Broke Satori’s heart.

There is always _one_ critic who seems to take things to a level of personal attack, however: Sugawara Koushi.

Logically, Satori knows that Sugawara is just doing his job. His job is to pull apart the performances of competitive dancers and note every area that they still need to reprove. He's not exactly what Satori would call a "negative Nancy,” but he does focus on his criticism the most. At least it’s constructive criticism.

Uh, usually.

Not where Satori is involved, though.

It’s practically a compliment to be repeatedly attacked and pulled apart in Sugawara’s column. Satori knows he feels flattered every time he reads an article that seems to focus far too much on his performance in particular. Having the most critique just means that he’s doing something right; you have to do something right to piss off _the_ Sugawara Koushi.

Oh, and Satori knows it’s him. All of Sugawara’s writings of the Shiratorizawa Dance Academy’s performances that don’t involve him have a much lighter feel. But once Satori is on stage, Sugawara is prepared to tear him apart.

It’s exhilarating.

Most critics wouldn’t get an ounce of Satori’s attention, but anyone worth anything in competitive dance knows about Sugawara Koushi. The fallen angel of Karasuno, injured in his last competition over a year ago, never to return to the stage. He teaches at Karasuno, is rumored to be the mentor of their latest primo-ballerino. And when he’s not teaching, he’s writing his critiques.

Satori finds him fascinating.

Sendai’s regional qualifiers competition has never felt more intense than this year.

Schools that Satori has never even _heard_ of are rising through the ranks, putting on show-stopping performances that don’t only impress on the technical level, but bring tears to the audience’s eyes. Every one that Satori can catch, he does.

“We’ve got a lot of competition this year, Tendou-san,” Goshiki mumbles, watching Seijoh’s ballet company’s abridged _Swan Lake_.

“We do!” Satori agrees, ruffling Goshiki’s hair. “That just makes it all the more satisfying when we crush them, eh?”

Goshiki doesn’t look convinced. That’s fair enough, Satori supposes, given the way that Oikawa-san and his prima-ballerina steal the stage in a way Seijoh has never delivered in years before.

Satori can’t help but huff. He agrees wholeheartedly with Wakatoshi that Oikawa would have been a great addition to their company, but he still feels relieved that the prince of the dance remains on a different stage.

“Come on, Goshiki-kun,” Satori says, pulling his junior along. “We should go get warmed up now.”

Goshiki sighs once more, then follows Satori back to their company’s warmup area. Very few are actually warming up – other than Wakatoshi and Shirabu, that is. Semi is leaning on the bar, leg up in the air, while he scrolls through Twitter. Kawanishi is folded over one leg in the splits, and it looks like he might have fallen asleep. Reon and Yamagata have their feet pressed together to deepen their open-legged stretch, but they’re just chatting.

“Oi, oi!” Satori shouts, clapping his hands together. “I’m guessing all of you are already warmed up, stretched, and limber? And totally ready to do a full run-through of our show?”

Wakatoshi starts to stand, but Satori waves him back down while the rest of their group mumbles among each other.

“Back to work,” he says cheerfully, “before coach gets in.” He turns up the music playing faintly on their stereo, and the group puts away their phones to warm up for real.

“Satori, will you help me stretch my left hip flexor?” Wakatoshi asks. “It’s too tight for me to move it much, and that concerns me for some of today’s performance.”

“Hey, I didn’t major in physical therapy for nothing, Wakatoshi-kun! Let’s see… what seems to be the issue…?”

Satori supports Wakatoshi’s leg through his usual stretches. When he sees where the tenseness is coming from, he hands Wakatoshi a roller ball so he can massage out the knot.

“It’s a good thing I found that, Wakatoshi-kun!” Satori tells him, slapping his back.

“Was it something that could have caused a serious injury?” Wakatoshi asks, grimacing when he finds the knot with the roller.

Satori laughs. “Well, I guess that depends on your definition of _serious_ ,” he giggles. “If that got any tighter, you might’ve had to worry about pulling your groin. Temporary, heals, but hell to dance with. And, you know, other things.”

“Other things?”

“He means copulating, Ushijima-senpai,” Shirabu supplies.

Kawanishi and Semi snort at Shirabu’s word choice; Goshiki blushes and stumbles out of a pirouette.

“Oh.” Wakatoshi frowns. “I don’t do that.”

“It was a joke, Wakatoshi-kun,” Satori assures him, patting his cheek.

“Oh.” Wakatoshi nods slowly. “I’m more concerned about the dance aspect.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be good as new in no time. Make sure to drink water after rolling that knot out though; gotta flush the toxins out of your body!”

Once Wakatoshi is good to go, Satori makes his rounds to the team, checking their form and their flexibility, making sure no one else has any bad knots hiding around that could pull on something. After everyone else is good to go, Satori goes on to his own stretches and warmup.

Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 23 in F Minor floats through the room, setting just enough of an urgency in the atmosphere to remind them that they’ll be moving to do the run-through in a moment. And then, it’s time to go on stage.

Satori loves the stage, loves the artform of dance. He knows that he isn’t what most people picture when they think of a dancer; he takes that in stride. There’s nothing like seeing the confused faces when he takes on a solo number, only to watch the confusion melt into amazement at his skill.

 _“Monsters can’t be dancers!”_ was what he always heard in his elementary school ballet classes.

Ah, but what did it matter? He had so much fun, and no amount of jeering was going to take that away from him.

“Satori.” Wakatoshi taps him on the shoulder and pulls him out of his memories. “We’re doing the final run-through.”

“Copy that.” Satori grins and stands up, heading to his starting place. “Break a leg, Wakatoshi-kun.”

“Break a leg.”

The lighting on stage makes it near impossible to see individual faces in the audience. Satori can’t _see_ Sugawara Koushi, but he can feel him. Sense his presence, his eyes already fixating on Satori. Ready to tear him apart.

As the lights come up, Satori spots him in the third row. He makes eye contact with a purpose, sends a confidant smirk, and revels in the way Sugawara’s eyes widen.

_Don’t take your eyes off me for a moment, Critic-kun._

“Damn, Sugawara-san really laid into you for this one,” Semi notes, chuckling at the newspaper in his hands. One leg is stretched up on the breakfast bar, something that is going to piss Shirabu off when he comes out of his room. Satori knows that Semi won’t care.

“Did he?” Satori hops up onto the breakfast bar, which will piss Shirabu off even more. “Lemme see.”

> _Shiratorizawa’s Tendou Satori once again proves that flexibility and litheness aren’t all it takes to make a good dancer._
> 
> _His technique in today’s performance was sloppy at best, with nearly no limb control. What others call a “personal style” strikes me as laziness and poor muscle strength. Miracle Boy Satori? Sure, if the miracle is that he hasn’t torn a ligament flailing about like that._

“Ha!” Satori almost falls off the counter from laughing so hard, so suddenly. “God, I want this one framed on the fridge. That’s brilliant. The pun on my nickname? Top notch.”

Semi shakes his head and stretches sideways to the floor. “What crawled up his ass, anyways? He’s always so hard on you specifically. I swear, I never see him be mean with anyone else. What did you do to this guy?”

“Nothing!” Satori insists. “I don’t know what his problem is!”

“Well, what did you do yesterday that set him off so bad?” Semi presses.

Damn. His best friend knows him too well.

“I may have spotted him in the audience,” Satori admits, slipping off the counter.

“And?”

“Well… I may have then made eye contact and… you know that face I make when I’m trying to pick up guys at the club?”

Semi’s ears turned red, but the rest of his face is unaffected as he stands back up. “Satori.” He brings his leg down from the breakfast bar. “What on _earth_ were you thinking?”

“I figured since I knew he’d be watching me, I should let him know that I know, so that he knows I’ll be reading _this_.” Satori waves the paper for emphasis. “And it worked.”

“Jeez; bad press isn’t a game, Satori! That could cost you your job if you’re not careful.”

Satori _tsk_ ’s at him. “Semisemi… my dear, dear Eita… all publicity is good publicity. I know that, you know that, Sugawara knows that, and most importantly, Washijou knows that. Bad press sells tickets, gets asses in seats. And when they think they know what to expect, I – _we_ – blow them all away.”

“I still don’t get why Sugawara-san hates you so much.”

Satori shrugs. “I just have one of those faces.”

“It’s true,” Shirabu agrees. Satori has no idea when he got in here. “Every day, I wonder why I haven’t just punched you yet.”

“Do it, Shirabubu; punch me right in the face. Right here.” Satori grins, feral, pointing to a spot above his cheekbone. “It’ll add such a nice effect with the costume makeup for our show.”

Shirabu clicks his tongue and heads to the fridge. “Eat something of nutrional value today, or I’ll beat you both up.” He pulls out the fruit salad and three bowls.

“I’m not hungry,” Satori whines, draping himself over Semi’s shoulders dramatically.

“Don’t care.”

“The fact you’ve never passed out during a competition continues to astound me,” Semi sighs, shrugging Satori off. “Eat.”

Regional qualifiers is a breeze; Shiratorizawa is one of the three companies chosen to advance to the next level.

The national-level critics are sure to make Sugawara Koushi’s articles look like a love letter, and Satori is _thriving_ off of that. There is no bad press, especially when he has never failed to impress. Bad reviews always work in his favor.

There is _one_ thing that he’s not counting on, however. Sugawara Koushi is sent on behalf of Miyagi’s Weekly News to still cover the competition and the Miyagi groups that made it.

Thank god he’s too busy to find out _during_ the competition, though. It’s not until a celebratory, fancy dinner at the very end that he even realizes Sugawara is there, in Tokyo.

Looking quite stunning, might Satori add.

Ah, yes, there he is. The former primo-ballerino of Karasuno Dance Company. He’s exactly as beautiful as Satori remembers, from years of bumping into each other at events when they were younger. He’s torn. He wants to tear Sugawara a new one for the brutal reviews he must be cooking up, but he also wants to tease the reporter, watch him come apart under Satori’s nonchalance…

Oh. Definitely the second one. How much fun, to see someone usually so composed, squirm?

He sits down at Sugawara’s table, pointedly not looking at him. It’s much more fun this way. Only a few seconds later, Satori feels a familiar gaze burning into his skull. He allows his gaze to slide over to Sugawara, curious but not-recognizing (as best as he can, at least).

“Can I help you?” he asks in a flat tone, looking Sugawara up and down. _He looks so good in that suit._

Sugawara sips his drink, looking away. “No, no. I just thought you were someone else.”

Satori hums and sips his own drink. Two can play at that game, and Satori plays it so much better. “Sorry to disappoint,” he says simply, and then turns away.

The atmosphere pulls so tense, Satori can _feel_ it about to snap. Exhilarating. Waiting for Sugawara to approach him directly is like listening to a concerto as the whole orchestra crescendos and you know it’s going to hit its peak and–

“I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m just doing my job,” Sugawara says finally. He gets up and sits in the chair beside Satori’s. “I’m a critic. My job is to _critique_.”

“I know,” Satori replies coolly. A smile tugs at his lips; he hides it behind his drink.

“It’s not like I sit there, only watching you all evening! So, don’t be an arrogant bastard, alright. I watch and review every single person on that stage. Only an egotistical moron would think that it was all about you.”

Satori nods. “I agree, Sugawara-san. You’ve given stellar feedback on some of my peers, and our dance company has been better off because of it.”

“And the crueler criticisms drives up sales to your performances, so it’s not like you can argue that I’m damaging your career–”

“My, my, Critic-kun.” Satori clicks his tongue in feigned disappointment. “Dare I say that a certain _someone_ has a guilty conscience?”

Sugawara’s mouth hung open when Satori interrupted; it now snaps shut. He sets his jaw and fixes his eyes somewhere else. “I’m just letting you know that you can’t sue me for what I write.”

Satori barks a laugh. He didn’t see _that_ one coming. “Well, you’re in luck, Sugawara-san. I don’t plan to sue you. It’s as you say, your harsh critique drives up our sales and gets asses in seats. I love to have an audience underestimate me before I blow them away.”

“Tch, right.” Sugawara huffs and slouches down some in his chair. “As long as we’re on the same page, then, Tendou-san.”

“Spring Nationals, two years ago. Karasuno made it for the first time in a decade,” Satori remembers casually. “Shiratorizawa was going for the tenth time in a row. Do you remember?”

“You told me to break a leg,” Sugawara recalls. “And then, I did.”

Satori finally turns to him, looks at him directly. His eyes roam over Sugawara’s form. Despite over a year out of the business, he’s still got a dancer’s body without a doubt. It must come from teaching. Even without the rigorous performances, he’s kept in shape.

“It’s not like I pushed you off the stage, Sugawara-san,” Satori hums. “You fell in the middle of the show, because you pushed _yourself_ too hard. All because you knew that was your last competition as primo-ballerino, and that Kageyama-kun would soon replace you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Sugawara snaps. “Tobio is my protégé. I am happier than anyone to see him finally as Karasuno’s shining star.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Satori agrees. “You’re a very good mentor, from what Wakatoshi-kun tells me. But it’s much more tragic, much easier on the ego, for Karasuno’s primo-ballerino to go down in an accident, no? Rather than just being bested by his junior?”

“How dramatic and selfish you must think me, Tendou-san,” Sugawara hums, finishing off his drink. He doesn’t deny it, however, and he looks impressed. Satori counts this a win.

“Ballet was taking its toll on your joints and ligaments anyways. You knew you had to go out sometime, right?”

“The world doesn’t end with a bang, but with a whisper,” Sugawara quotes. “You’re saying I went out exactly how I wanted to?”

“Isn’t it better than simple wear-and-tear, than some young thing just being better than you?”

“Touché.”

There’s a new energy charging the air around them, and it strikes Satori’s curiosity. He glances around; most everyone from his company is busy kissing up to sponsors and doing post-competition interviews. Wakatoshi is getting talked up by the same theater company that tries to swoon him into musicals every year, and he seems to be awkwardly and politely declining. Reon is at his rescue. No one seems to need him for anything.

“Would you like an interview with your least favorite first-place dancer, Sugawara-san?” Satori muses, still looking around the ballroom.

“Why would I?”

Satori finally allows himself a full grin. “You’re right. Why would you?”

Without another word, Sugawara stands up and heads out to the balcony.

 _How romantic_ , Satori thinks to himself, giddy. _And how adorably obvious._

The mid-spring evening air has just enough coolness to be comfortable. The sun still hangs in the sky, albeit low, bathing the scene in the warm haze of golden hour. Somewhere between the table and the doors, Sugawara must have grabbed another drink. He stands looking at Tokyo, champagne glass in hand.

Looks like an angel, writes like a menace.

“When did you start dancing?” Sugawara asks, right to the point. He holds up a recorder in his hand then sets it on the ledge. It’s thick enough, with a dip, so the recorder won’t fall.

“I was three years old,” Satori recalls, “and my parents enrolled me in Mina-san’s Tiny Dancer Company.”

“Why did you keep going?”

“Because my classmates told me to stop,” Satori answers simply. “It made me happy, and it made them unhappy. What more a reason do you need?”

“Did you go to university?”

“Yes. I had to wait tables to pay my way through, but I did. I majored in fine art and minored in sports medicine.”

Sugawara looks at him for the first time since they got out there. “That’s a winning combo. How did you juggle dance, work, and the course load?”

“I didn’t have any friends, so it’s not like I was distracted by a social life.” Satori laughs, but it’s a bit forced. He thinks Sugawara can tell. “All for the best. Shiratorizawa Dance Company is a family to me. Makes up for all the friends that I didn’t have.”

“Oft times, when people watch your team’s rehearsals, they note that you seem to rile your teammates up more than get along with them,” Sugawara says, a hint of humor in his voice. “What do you say to that?”

“I do rile them up, but we’re just playing around with each other. Nah, we’re together all the time, so there’s fights, but for the most part? We’re found family. I know I personally didn’t have the most awesome family growing up, so meeting them… they’re the best.”

Satori smiles fondly through the glass doors as he watches Goshiki try to pull Kawanishi out to dance. Kawanishi is probably complaining that he _always_ dances, and after winning, he deserves a night off. Satori doesn’t think Goshiki’s ever heard of a night off in his life.

“That’s how Karasuno was, for me,” Sugawara says softly, pulling him from his thoughts. “Ah, I mean, I had friends before, but they were more than that. They were my _people_. Made me forget what my parents said about _men who dance_.” He shakes his head and breathes a laugh through his nose.

Satori knows the homophobic implication, and his expression softens. Ah.

“My parents started me in dance so I would behave more like a lady,” he admits. “And I fell in love with ballet. I fell in love with being a _man_ in ballet. So, that backfired a bit on them.”

Sugawara’s mouth opens in a small _oh_ , like he just put something together. “It’s a good thing that you stuck with it, Tendou-san. Shiratorizawa DC is lucky to have you.”

“That’s on the record, right, Critic-san? You have to tell your readers that you said that?” Satori smirks and leans against the ledge with Sugawara.

“It’s my column. I don’t have to tell them anything if I don’t want to.” Sugawara gives an even smile back.

“Off the record,” Satori begins, reaching to the recorder in the space between them. He flicks it off. “You’re brutal. I love it when I catch a glimpse of you in the audience before a show. I feel like I have someone to impress and piss off all at once.”

“Should I be flattered or insulted, Tendou-san?” Sugawara raises an eyebrow, like he knows the answer.

“Should _I_ be flattered or insulted that you are only ever so cruel when you critique _me_ , Sugawara-san?”

Sugawara’s eyes scan Satori’s face, searching for something. Probably a hint of teasing, of arrogance, of…something.

“When we were eighteen, we had a high school competition against one another,” Satori reminds him. “I told you that I would break your heart, and you stepped on my foot while wearing tap shoes.”

Sugawara hides a laugh in his hand. “I don’t remember,” he lies.

“Your team crushed mine,” Satori continues, slowly leaning closer. “And I remember how you looked at me. Like you would always be above me. You really had some nerve, calling me arrogant.”

“You’re not arrogant,” Sugawara amends, “just over-confident.”

“May I let you in on a secret?”

Sugawara nods, moving closer as if drawn by gravity.

“I’m bluffing,” Satori whispers, and presses a soft kiss to Sugawara’s cheek. “But a dance team has more than one person. I don’t need to hold all the confidence in the world for us to succeed.”

Sugawara’s eyes are wide, cheeks are flushed, but he doesn’t look upset. Quite the opposite, really.

“Your team is celebrating,” he stammers, “and I shouldn’t keep you from them.”

“They’re all like old men. They’ll be heading back to the hotel soon to catch their beauty sleep.”

“And you?”

“That depends.”

“Oh?”

“Will you invite me to your hotel room?”

The surprise leaves Sugawara’s face, replaced by something a little darker, a little more… wanting.

“Midnight, Tendou Satori.” Sugawara pushes away from the ledge and pockets his recorder. “Don’t be late.”

“Got a bedtime, Sugawara-san?” Satori teases, leaning back to watch him go.

“No, but I think you may have a curfew.” Sugawara winks and heads back inside.

Satori bites his lip. This was exactly the sort of thing he’s been hoping for since Sugawara started dragging him on a regular basis in his column. To have it at his disposal now…

_Time to tell Wakatoshi-kun not to wait up for me tonight._

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Twitter](https://www.twitter.com/lovingyachi) and scream with me about Haikyuu!! and other shit


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